Welcome to Buenos Aires

Why am I putting myself through this? I ask myself when I finally arrive, dog-eared and dog-tired, in Buenos Aires, Argentina. A grueling three-flight odyssey means it took almost an entire day to get here. I’ve had three hours sleep and to top it off I started out with a nasty cold that’s somehow gotten worse. I hate to think it, but maybe I’m just getting too old to be a globe-trotter.

The America del Sur Hostel, located in the historic San Telmo district, provides a much needed surprise. The young señoritas at the front desk are obliging and English-fluent. There’s a spacious lounge bistro area just beyond reception where guests intermingle as they enjoy their complimentary breakfast. A few patrons linger over their coffee in the airy central courtyard. Posters advertise daily local walking tours that are gratis for patrons. Things are starting to look up.

The boutique hostel offers dorms, as well as private lodging, which is what I’ve booked. My fresh, modern room is nicer than those at many midrange hotels. After a revitalizing hot shower, I decide to have a quick wander around the neighbourhood and make it an early night.

As I step outside the hostel and traipse the area’s cobbled roadways, I find myself surrounded by reminders of San Telmo’s colonial heyday. The familiar blue-and-white Argentinean flag hangs from the drooping balconies of crumbling manors. Many of the majestic old structures look as though they’ve seen better days, but this faded opulence almost makes them more impressive. Several have been recycled into galleries, antique shops, and tango parlors.

Dating from the 17th Century, San Telmo is the oldest of Buenos Aires’ barrios. The installation of a modern infrastructure in the early 1800s attracted the city’s upper classes, who built imposing mansions along its cobblestone streets. But an 1871 cholera epidemic caused an exodus of the well-to-do into the district now known as Barrio Norte. In the 1950s, San Telmo experienced a renaissance of sorts when artists and bohemians were pulled in by its archaic grandeur. They’ve remained to this day.

It’s Sunday, so the narrow side streets are quiet and largely free of traffic. The calm is abruptly shattered when I hit Defensa Calle, where the renowned weekly San Telmo Feria (Street Market) is in full raucous sway. Stretching north from Plaza de Mayo in el centro a mile south to the barrio of La Boca, San Telmo’s main drag is chock-a-block with hundreds of stalls piled high with a mind-boggling assortment of merchandise.

Hordes of locals and turistas clamour for vintage clothing, antique dolls, used leather ware, and faded old photographs. At times, I feel like I’m rummaging through my grandparent’s attic. In addition to all the used goods, there are distinctive pieces hand crafted by local artisans. Smiling, aging hippies offer abstract paintings, kitschy glass soda bottles, and handmade backgammon boards. This is the perfect spot to pick up a one-of-a-kind gift, but I have to force myself to slow down or I might miss that perfect item. Hmm, I’m pretty sure Mom doesn’t have a lamp made from recycled floppy discs.

I gradually meander south along Defensa. Street entertainers in metallic makeup and tango dancers wearing traditional attire entertain the crowds for a few pesos. Behind the buzzing vendor booths, the street is lined with a myriad of snazzy bistros and hip restaurants, as well as high-end antique stores. I stop and window shop for opulent light fixtures, sumptuously gilded clocks, and ornately decorated framed mirrors.

After a couple of blocks I reach Plaza Dorrego, the focal point of San Telmo. During the week, it is a tranquil leafy piazza where locals sip coffee but, on Sundays, jam-packed with craft stalls, it is transformed into the epicentre of the feria. Antiques dominate the tables today. Antiquated cameras, old-fashioned wood grain radios, and ancient telephones are far from cheap, but many are still functional.

Although vintage electronics are not in my budget, I do locate a booth that offers a more practical keepsake: fridge magnets. After some spirited haggling, I buy a dozen from an attractive, tanned muchacha. The price is right, and they’re a lot easier to carry on an airplane than an old gramophone.

Across the road from the plaza, I spot what many locals view as an unwelcomed symbol of San Telmo’s increasing gentrification: its first Starbucks. The historic building that houses it actually looks rather inviting, but why would I slurp a pre-mixed frappuccino when right next door is the Bar Plaza Dorrego, one of Buenos Aires countless grand old cafés.

When I step inside, I’m instantly transported back to 1920s Buenos Aires. The dark wooden tables, mosaic tiled floor, decorative bar lined with antique bottles, plus the vintage tango posters and scribbled graffiti are reminders of a bygone era. Waiters in crisp white shirts and bow ties scurry about. I order a submarino (hot milk with chocolate), park myself at an outside table, and watch the drama unfold across the street in the plaza. The overwhelming fatigue that engulfed me this morning now seems to be in full remission.

My delicioso beverage has stimulated my taste buds, so I backtrack to the Gran Parilla del Plata restaurant, only a couple of blocks from my hotel. A former butcher shop, the old-fashioned steakhouse oozes rustic charm. With a wide range of pasta and pizza options, the menu reflects Buenos Aires’ Italian cultural heritage. But after all, this is Argentina, and to not order red meat in a parilla would be sacrilege.

A crinkly-haired, good-looking receptionist at my hotel had informed me that, “The steaks at Parilla del Plata are not the best in Buenos Aires, but they’re not so bad.” However, my succulent bife de lomo (steak tenderloin), washed down with a tangy glass of Mendoza Malbec wine, literally dissolves in my mouth. I remind myself to have a word with that young lady at the front desk.

It’s dark out when I depart the restaurant and wander back to Defensa. I expect the feria to be winding down, but mi dios am I wrong! It seemed impossible, but there are now even more tables heaped with even more stuff. Many spill off Defensa on to adjoining side streets. Vendors peddle hand-carved candle holders, leather sandals, dusty picture frames, their old jewellery, and just about any other knick-knack they can slap a price tag on. One dapper old caballero is hawking lamp shades from the back of his 1963 Ford Falcon.

On a vacant corner lot, some opportunistic young hombres are selling pungent-smelling grilled sausages from a homemade barbecue. Customers feast at folding tables as they’re entertained by a live band grinding out sizzling Argentinean rock musica.

The band is excellent, but some of the most unforgettable music I’ve ever heard waits just up ahead. At an alleyway entrance, a makeshift ensemble is generating a sound that is almost ethereal. A couple of guys play guitars, a willowy girl bangs on a crude wooden drum, but most of the dozen or so musicians strum ukuleles. A diminutive chica with dusky skin belts out scorching vocals with more soul than Amy Winehouse and Aretha Franklin combined. Onlookers are completely caught up in the moment, dancing feverishly as they pass around bottles of vino.

What was I thinking this morning? Of course, experiences like this are why I do it. This is why I put up with the missed flight connections, the missing luggage, and the jet lag. This is why I travel.

INFLATION:
When I visited Argentina in October 2016, the country had experienced 40 per cent inflation in the past year. All prices quoted here may have gone up (or down) dramatically since then. Do your research.

GETTING THERE:
Several US cities offer direct non-stop flights to Buenos Aires. Almost all international flights arrive at the modern Ezeiza airport, about an hour’s drive from the city centre. Shuttle buses make frequent trips to the centre and charge about CDN$25. Expect to pay about three times that for a taxi.

WHEN TO GO:
Summer (December to January) can be hot and humid, with daytime highs over 30C. Spring (September to November) and fall (March to May) are ideal times to visit. High temperatures are a very comfortable 20C to 25C, but expect the odd rain shower.

WHERE TO STAY:
As a world class metropolis with a population exceeding 13 million, Buenos Aires offers a staggering choice of accommodation options, from hostels to boutique hotels to five star palaces with all the conveniences.

I stayed at the America del Sur hostel (www.americahostel.com) in the San Telmo district. Clean, four-bed dorms run around CDN$20 per person, while attractive private rooms go for about CDN$75 per night. A short walk from the city centre, San Telmo boasts some fine colonial architecture, and a good selection of restaurants, nightspots, and budget to midrange lodgings.

Those with more upscale tastes may consider heading to the fashionable barrio of Palermo, about a 10-minute cab ride from the centre. Palermo is the place to go for chic restaurants, pricey designer shops, art deco guesthouses, and intimate B&Bs. Book ahead for the best rates, and expect to pay more on weekends.

https://turismo.buenosaires.gob.ar/en

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